Truce
by avrovulcan
Summary: Illya agrees to a truce with the opposition in order to save Napoleon's life. originally written for Picfic Tuesday on LJ.


"If you want to help your friend, you _**will**_ meet me."

"How do I know I can trust you, and why do you want to help me?"

"Because, my dour little Russian, you know what Napoleon means to me; I don't want to see him die, just as you don't."

"That is a contradiction, after all, how many times have you tried to harm him, Angelique?"

"Oh darling, those were on my own terms; anyway you know it's only a game, I've never actually done any _**permanent**_ damage to him."

Illya sighed and rolled his eyes.

"And don't roll those baby blues at me."

He looked incredulously at the phone in his hand, wondering how she knew.

"Fine, I will meet you, but I warn you, Angelique, if you cross me you will regret it."

"How about a truce? I won't if you won't."

"Fine." He replied, though he still didn't trust her entirely.

"I can't been seen meeting you, so follow these directions carefully."

The THRUSH agent explained to Kuryakin how to find his way to her chosen location.

Placing the phone back into its cradle, he wondered if he was crazy agreeing to meet this dangerous woman, but she was right in saying he'd do it for his partner.

Illya left the doctors office he'd taken the call in, and made his way back to Napoleons room. His friend was hooked up to an IV, a monitor was showing a steady heartbeat and an oxygen mask aided his breathing, but he knew he partner was slipping further and further away, the drugs in his system were gradually shutting his body down, it was a race against time to find an antidote.

They'd just finished an assignment in Ireland and Waverly had given them a couple days rest as they'd completed a run of missions with very little downtime in between.

It was while they'd been enjoying a drink in an Irish bar that they'd been spotted by a couple of THRUSH minions. Sensing something wasn't right, the two UNCLE agents left the bar and headed towards their car, as they rounded a corner they were attacked, they knocked out both assailants, but not before one of them had injected Napoleon with an unknown substance.

They quickly made their way back to the UNCLE outpost in Cork. As they approached the Medical section, Solo was starting to feel the effects of the drug; his limbs seemed heavy and awkward, breathing was becoming laboured and he had the beginnings of a super sized headache.

Just as they approached the examination room, Napoleons legs buckled, Illya caught him and helped the American onto the bed. As he was settling down the doctor came in.

"Ah, Mr Solo, I understand you have been injected with something. I need to take some blood so we can analyse it," while drawing a sample he continued, "I can see you are struggling to breathe, what other problems are you experiencing?"

"Erm," he didn't want to admit he didn't feel well, but knew he really had no choice, "I can't seem to move my arms and legs, they seem... too heavy, I've also got a headache."

"I'll get you on oxygen, that should help with your breathing, but if it gets too difficult, we may have to intubate you."

Napoleon grimaced at that, it was one of the things he hated most. The medic continued to examine his patient.

"I can't find anything obviously wrong and there's not much I can do until we find out what you've been injected with. I'll make you as comfortable as possible while we wait for the results and hope we have an antidote."

The nurse proceeded to attach an IV line and hook him up to machines to monitor his vitals.

"Thanks doc." Solo rasped, grateful for the steady flow of oxygen as the nurse placed the mask on his face.

"I will go to the labs and see if I can help."

"Okay tovarisch, I'll be here when you get back. You go show them what a real scientist can do."

"Da, I will." Illya smiled as he followed the Doctor from the room.

Half an hour later they'd analyzed the concoction of drugs in Napoleons blood, but an antidote for them all was going to be harder to find. Individually each drugs corresponding antidote was harmless, but the combination of all of the ones needed would react together and cause more problems. THRUSH knew what they were doing. They had to find something that would cure and not cause further complications.

Illya was no further forward twenty minutes later when he received a message that there was a phone call for him and he could take it in the Doctor's office.

It took fifteen precious minutes to reach the cemetery where he was to meet Angelique, he found the remains of the chapel she'd described and cautiously approached the blonde THRUSH agent.

She turned, her blood red lips perfectly imitating a smile that didn't reach her eyes, as he drew near to her. She pulled her black fur coat closer against a cold breeze that disturbed the long red silk dress she wore underneath.

"I can't be long, as I'll be missed, but I believe this is what you need." She handed him a vial of liquid with a green tinge.

"How did you know about Napoleon and what is needed?"

"Those two imbeciles who attacked you, they reported back to the leader of a local satrapy I happen to be visiting. I believe you might know him. His name's Paul Vicary." *

Illya felt a cold chill on hearing the name, a couple of years ago they'd destroyed a new base Vicary had been developing not too far away in County Clare, it had resulted in serious injuries to one of the agents working with them.

"I thought he was still locked away."

"He was until he escaped several months ago. He has a personal vendetta against the two of you and heard you were in town."

"Nice to know someone thinks so much of us," Illya commented dryly, "how do I know this will cure him and not cause more problems?"

"Look, I took a huge risk obtaining this antidote and passing it on to you. I've already explained why I don't want Napoleon to die, which is what will happen if you don't stop dithering and get this into him." Angelique almost shouted with frustration.

Illya knew time was ticking away and he had nothing else that could help his friend, he took the vial from her hand. "Fine, I will take it, but if this does not work, be assured I will hunt you down."

"I don't doubt it, and a word of advice, watch your backs because Vicary has it in for you."

With that parting statement she walked away from the meeting and disappeared amongst the tombstones. Kuryakin made sure he wasn't followed as he made his way to his car and the drive to the Cork outpost was made in record time. When he finally hurried into Solo's room, he'd found his friend had taken a turn for the worse, he was now on a ventilator and unconscious, the monitor showing a slow weak heartbeat. He knew he had no choice but to use the vile he'd been given.

"Hold on Napoleon, I have an antidote," he hoped it was the correct one and not something more lethal.

Illya took it to the doctor and, with Napoleon so close to dying, the medic immediately injected it into Solo's IV line; there was nothing to lose, if they didn't use it he wouldn't make it anyway, his body was shutting down.

There was no immediate reaction and he continued to deteriorate, then after twenty minutes his heartbeat started to gain strength, after another ten minutes his fingers twitched, fifteen more and his eyes flickered open, half an hour later he was fighting the ventilator. Three hours after receiving the antidote, Napoleon was sat propped up against his pillows, nursing a headache, but otherwise he was well on the way to recovery.

"So, it was Angelique who cured me then."

"Da, but only because she did not want anyone else to take the credit."

"You won't change your opinion about her will you?"

"Nyet, and I will never know what you see in her or why you must always play her games."

"Lets just say I like the thrill of it all."

Illya sighed, "one day she will go too far and I might not be around to save you."

"That's a risk I might have to take, but I'm sure you'll be there when I need you." Solo yawned and his eyes grew heavy.

"Sleep now, I will be here when you wake."

"I know, tovarisch. I know."

The Russian smiled as he watched his friend fall asleep. Yes; no matter what, they would always be there for each other.


End file.
